Love is What You Stay For
by LuckyInLove
Summary: Those three little words escape his lips. Will their relationship survive? OE!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I do not own these characters 

"Bless you," Olivia said, stretching across her desk to hand her partner a tissue.

"Thanks," he said appreciatively.

"You feeling alright, El?" she asked, a genuine look of concern coming over her face.

"Yeah, yeah, just the sniffles," he said with a half-smile.

The station house was bustling on this dreary Thursday morning. Sirens could be heard just above the whipping of the wind outside. The smell of stale coffee lingered in the air, making Olivia happy she stopped at Starbucks on her way into work. She and Elliot pored over their paperwork, neither making a sound, except for Elliot's occasional sniffle.

"Benson, Stabler," Captain Cragen called, motioning for them to join him in his office.

The pair reluctantly stood up and headed into the captain's office.

"I got one for you, CSU just called us in," he said, handing Elliot a note with an address on it.

"We're on it," he said, heading out the door.

The two grabbed their coats from the backs of their chairs. Elliot lifted a box of tissues from his desk, holding it upside down, hoping another tissue would magically appear.

"Ahh, damn it," he grumbled.

As they headed to the elevator, Olivia pulled a handkerchief out of her coat pocket. Elliot looked at it skeptically.

"It's clean, I swear," she said jokingly.

He accepted the hanky, and very respectfully, turned his back toward her so she wouldn't see him blow into it.

"Since when did you start carrying a hanky?" he asked, offering it back to her with a smile.

"No, thanks, you can keep it," she said, toyfully batting it out of her face where he held it for her to see.

As they stepped outside of the building, Olivia instinctively wrapped her coat around her tighter. They had had an unusually mild winter, so this cold snap had everyone groaning and complaining. Elliot rested his hands on his back and stretched.

"You're an old man, Stabler," Olivia teased, taking off in the direction of their squad car. He followed, a little more slowly.

"I'm forty-five, my body just doesn't want to function like it did when I was twenty-five," he said.

The truth is, and he wouldn't admit it to anyone, ever since a foot chase ended badly a few months ago, his body just couldn't recover. One of the few times this winter there had been snow, he chased a perp for several blocks until he slipped on a patch of ice and landed hard on his back. He had a hard time admitting to himself it was getting harder to perform the physical aspects of his job. There was no way he would admit it to Olivia.

As they waited in the car for the heat to kick in, they listened intently to the forecast on the radio.

"Do you think we'll actually _get _this blizzard?" Olivia wondered aloud.

"I could have told you yesterday," Elliot said with a smile. Ever since he had fallen, his back acted up every time there was a change in the weather.

They drove in silence for a few minutes. Olivia studied her partner's face intently while he focused on the road. She noticed he looked more tired than usual. Elliot's eyes seemed to droop ever so slightly, and they were a little red and watery. His cheeks were bright pink and his nose looked sore from the sniffles.

And then he did it. She couldn't help herself, she laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Elliot asked.

"When you have a sore throat, you do this weird –"Olivia mimicked clearing her throat, adding in a not so subtle head jerk – "thing," she said, still laughing.

"I do not!" he yelled in defense. "I don't even have a sore throat!"

"Don't lie, Elliot! We first noticed it when you caught strep from Dickie."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Fin does the best impression of it, he's just gonna die when I tell him it's back," she said, her laughter subsiding.

He took his eyes off the road for a quick moment, just to give her a look. She understood that look well. Elliot tends to take things pretty seriously, and when the others joke around with him, sometimes it takes a few minutes for him to come around. Olivia wasn't worried, though. She acted like the look didn't bother her.

"Oh, don't even go there, Elliot. It's funny and you know it."

He didn't respond, but his face loosened up a little bit, and he eventually cracked a sly smile.

"Do I really do that?" he asked, laughing himself.

They came upon a brownstone lined street crawling with sirens and lights. There was a crowd of people lurking in front of yellow police tape.

They slammed their doors shut and approached the swarm of people. They introduced themselves to the officer manning the scene and entered the house. It was warm inside, both detectives were thankful for that. Elliot peeled off his stocking hat and Olivia unwrapped her soft, red scarf from around her neck. An officer just inside the door directed them upstairs. They took a quick look around the living room before heading up the set of brown, rickety stairs.

"God, it looks the Pottery Barn catalog threw up in here," Olivia said, amazed at how perfectly the coffee tables matched every piece of furniture.

"I didn't know you were into pottery," Elliot said, following her up the stairs. "Eight years we've been partners, and never so much as a vase?"

Olivia rolled her eyes and continued up the steps.

"Give me a minute, detectives, and I can give you some details," Dr. Warner instructed them.

Benson and Stabler took this opportunity to speak with the victim's roommate, the girl who had found her lying on her bed, not breathing. She was obviously upset and frightened, and after calming her down somewhat, they were able to extract some information from her.

"So, the victim's name is Summer Cooper, she lives here with 3 friends, attends NYU, last seen coming home around midnight last night alone," Elliot recaps to Olivia.

"Elliot! Olivia!" called Dr. Warner, waving them into the bedroom.

"Damn, none of my girls ever kept their rooms this clean," Elliot said, glancing around the room. Not a single article of clothing was out of place, the desk was neat and tidy, and the curtains hung perfectly.

"See this?" Dr. Warner asked as the detectives leaned in closer to the girl.

"Ahhh-" Elliot hastily fished in his pockets for the hanky "-chooo!" he let out, unable to cover his nose in time.

"Oh, God, Elliot, you didn't," Olivia murmured under her breath, realizing the reality of what just happened.

He sniffled, a look of utter humiliation covering his face. Backing up from the bed, he barely stuttered, "I, uh, I'm going to uh, just, um, outside," and he turned and left the room, shaking his head.

Benson and Warner finished with the details, and Olivia headed back outside into the cold, where she met her partner. He was leaning against the passenger door of their sedan, with his arms crossed over his chest. It appeared as though he was intently studying his shoelaces when Olivia startled him.

"Hey!" she said, his head jerking up.

"Did you get everything?" he asked without making eye contact. She nodded, knowing better than to say anything. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips and tossed Olivia the keys. They drove in silence back to the station, where they were met with a quick greeting from Fin.

"Daddy's mad," he said, a wicked smile crossing his face. Elliot and Olivia exchanged glances. Raising his eyebrows at her, Olivia shook her head.

"Stabler! My office! Now!" Elliot inhaled deeply, shoved his hands in his pockets, and went to face the captain. Fortunately for the rest of the squad, Elliot neglected to close the door behind him.

"What the hell happened, Elliot? I get a call from Warner, asking me to tell you to stop by her office to give her a DNA sample? Naturally I want to know why," Cragen said, pacing back and forth in his office, whipping a Twizzler around as he spoke.

Munch and Fin crept up behind Olivia, demanding details.

"Shh, listen," she whispered.

"You contaminated a crime scene?" he asked accusingly. Elliot mumbled something inaudible under his breath.

"You sneezed on a dead girl's body!" Cragen continued. Munch and Fin let out a collective gasp.

"Aww, that's just wrong," Fin muttered, shaking his head in disgust.

"I'm guessing if it was a dry sneeze there wouldn't be all this fuss," Munch added sarcastically.

"Your guess would be right," Olivia nodded.

"As of right now, you're on sick leave. If you come back and I hear you so much as sniffle, I'll send you right back home. Go home, Elliot," Cragen said, opening his office door wider to usher Elliot out.

"Get back to work!" he hollered at everyone else.

Without even so much as a glance at anyone else, Elliot collected a stack of papers from his desk, pulled on his coat, and stormed out. Fin took this prime opportunity to impersonate Elliot's sore throat cough.

"I heard that," Elliot said from the doorway, responding with an inappropriate finger.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the day lagged for the detectives. They spent hours going over notes, interviewing the victim's roommates and her boyfriend, who unfortunately had an airtight alibi. It was after five when the captain sent everyone home.

"Get outta here before this snow gets any worse," he said, gazing out the window at the snowflakes swirling around above the crowded street.

"You don't have to tell me twice," Fin said, grabbing his coat. Munch and Olivia followed suit.

An hour later, there was a knock on Elliot's door. Olivia inhaled deeply when Elliot answered. She could handle Elliot most days. He was very attractive, she didn't deny that. He was strong - physically strong, with broad shoulders and arms that, when you were folded into them, looked like they could protect you from anything. She'd been attracted to Elliot since the first time she laid eyes on him, receding hairline and all. She had been relieved to see the gold band on that oh-so-important finger, knowing that her feelings for him could never get in the way of their job.

He was smiling at her. Not the normal, everyday smile he exchanges with pleasantries to acquaintances. It was the I'm genuinely happy to see you smile, complete with a subtle twinkle in his eye. His blue eyes that looked wider, brighter beneath his glasses. It wasn't everyday Detective Stabler wore glasses. They were reserved for those days after he got clocked in the face and had a swollen eye. Or maybe once a year when his allergies were acting up and his eyes were constantly itchy. And, every so often, when they worked into the night and his contacts would bother him. It was during those times that Olivia couldn't deny her attraction to him. Something about those glasses transformed him from an intimidating cop to a vulnerable, good looking man with bad eyesight.

She regained her composure and pushed past Elliot into his kitchen.

"Come on in," Elliot said sarcastically as he shut the door. He watched her silently for a few moments. Watched her shrug her coat off, shake the snow out of her hair, and set the grocery bags on his counter. "What're you doing, Olivia?"

"I know you," she said, unpacking the bags. "I know you feel like crap, I know you only go to the supermarket the day your kids come over, so it's been two weeks now. Therefore, I was able to deduce, rather easily, that you have nothing to eat. And you're sick, so you're really not going to the store anytime soon. I come bearing sustenance."

"You don't have to do this, you know," he said, wearily settling himself onto a stool, resting his elbows on the counter.

"I know, and I brought back-up," she said, waving a bottle of Ny-Quil in her hand. "Either you cooperate peacefully, or I'll have to use force. Don't for one second think I'm above drugging you with this stuff. I'll do it."

He raised his arms as if surrendering. Then he rested his head on his fist and watched Olivia get to work. She began rummaging through his cabinets looking for the necessary utensils to cook him up a special pot of her chicken noodle soup. He watched her in amazement as she expertly handled the carrots and the soup vat.

"You never cease to amaze me," he said, his voice quiet and soft, and a little raspy. She glanced up a few moments later to see his eyes closed, his mouth just barely open, letting the air pass in and out.

"El," she said softly, rubbing his back.

"Hmmm," he murmured back.

"Go lay down, I'll bring you some when it's ready," she said, steadying him as he struggled to get up. She watched him as he curled up on the couch, pulling a ratty, old crocheted blanket up to his chin. She smiled to herself, wondering how this man, always in complete control, could look so small on that couch. Sighing deeply, she shook those thoughts out of her mind and when back to her pot.

While the soup simmered downstairs, Olivia quietly crept upstairs to the bathroom. Rummaging around, she found everything she was looking for. Pocketing the thermometer, she wedged the vaporizer under one arm, her other arm laden with extra pillows and blankets. Once downstairs, she stirred the soup while filling the vaporizer. She covered Elliot in another blanket, and laid the extra pillows and one other blanket on the floor next to him. The house smelled amazing, she admitted, congratulating herself on a job well done. She spooned a ladle of soup into her mouth, and she turned the burner down to low. She ladled a bowl of soup for Elliot and carried it over to where he lay on the couch. Olivia settled herself on the soft stack of pillows, carefully setting the steaming bowl of soup on the coffee table next to her.

"Elliot," she whispered softly, lightly tapping his shoulder.

"Yeah?" he croaked, his eyes remaining shut.

"Open up," she instructed, gently slipping the thermometer under his tongue. He kept his eyes closed, and didn't open them until the thermometer beeped a few moments later.

"What is it?" he asked, sitting up slowly, rubbing his temples as he did so.

"It's not so bad," she said, exchanging it for the bowl of soup on the table.

With his long arms, he easily reached around her and picked it up, squinting at the tiny numbers.

"One oh three? Pediatrician says anything above a 102 and you're supposed to go to the doctor," he said, resting his head against the cushions.

"Since when are you such a baby," she teased. Olivia handed him a bowl of soup. "Eat up!"

He held a spoonful up to his mouth, attempting to breathe in the delicious aroma. "If I could smell, I bet this would smell wonderful, thanks Liv," he said. "Where'd you find that vaporizer?" he asked with a smile on his face as he took his first bite of soup. Olivia watched him grimace as it went down.

"That bad?" she asked, looking taken aback.

"I have a sore throat," he finally admitted.

"Ah, the truth comes out," she laughed. "I bought you some of those orange push-ups, in the freezer. And a new loaf of bread, in case you want toast. And O.J. And the good Kleenex with lotion that won't hurt your nose."

"What have I done to deserve all this?" he asks quietly.

Olivia shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I would just hope you'd do the same for me," she replied.

"Okay, but my chicken soup comes from Campbell's kitchen," he said, laughing. "You're going to eat some, right?"

Olivia fixed herself a bowl of soup and sat at the opposite end of the couch facing Elliot. They ate silently for a few minutes, Olivia finishing her bowl before Elliot was even halfway done with his.

"When was the last time you took a sick day?" she asked him.

"When did Dickie have strep?" he asked. "Has it really been that long?"

He sat quietly, looking lost in his thoughts.

"Maureen took care of us then. Dickie slept in my bed with me for four days. Mo checked on us constantly, she never let our tea get cold and we never took our medicine a minute late," he said. "She's just like Kathy – a completely independent, strong woman. She's going to be a great mom, you know."

"She has great parents to learn from," Olivia said.

There was a long pause, and Olivia took the opportunity to take her bowl back to the kitchen. She filled Tupperware with the soup and stuck it in the fridge. Then she headed back to the living room to check on her patient.

"All done?" she asked in her best motherly tone.

"Yeah," he said, peering into his bowl, which was still half full. "Not that hungry, I guess."

"I guess I'll get going then," Olivia said, rinsing out Elliot's bowl.

Elliot looked up at her with sad eyes. She knew he desperately wanted her to stay, but she wasn't going to let him get away with it that easily. She'd make him ask her. Sooner or later he was going to have to learn that it's okay to ask for help.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked, slipping into her coat, hoping her plan wouldn't backfire. In all honesty, it was snowing pretty hard out there and she had no desire to leave the warm house. She'd slept at Elliot's once before, when he and Kathy were still married. They were working a case in Queens and it was really late, and Elliot didn't want to drive all the way back to Manhattan, so she crashed in Maureen's room. She and Elliot had left early in the morning, before Kathy awoke, and she was certainly glad she wasn't around to hear Elliot explain his way out of that one.

"Stay," he said quietly.


	3. Chapter 3

"What?" she asked, teasing him.

"Come on, Liv, stay. It's practically a blizzard out there. Just stay," he pleaded.

How could she say no to the man behind those glasses? There was just something about them, she melted when he looked up at her with a little pout on his face and sad, puppy dog eyes.

"You're like a little kid," she said, shrugging her coat back off.

He flipped the television on and she managed to get him to swallow a dose of NyQuil.

Olivia woke to the sound of the telephone ringing. It wasn't hers, but she glanced at the clock and saw that it was half past nine, and they had been out for almost two hours. Slowly getting up from the recliner, she crossed the living room to the desk where Elliot's phone was ringing.

"El," she said, shoving the phone at him. "El, wake up, it's Kathy."

Elliot took the phone without even opening his eyes and he let out a deep breath.

"Hello?" he said groggily.

Olivia curled back up on the recliner, pulling Kathleen's down comforter tight around her chin.

"Hey buddy, what's up?" Elliot said, coming to life. "What…well aren't you lucky…I don't know, lemme talk to mom."

Olivia tried not to listen, but the house was otherwise silent and Elliot was making no effort at keeping the conversation private.

"Kathy, how are you?...actually not so well…just the flu or something…yeah, but it's not that high…well, yeah…come on, Kathy, I only get to see them every two weeks as it is," Elliot began rubbing his forehead. "Tell Lizzie and Dickie I'm sorry, I'll call them Saturday afternoon…yeah, okay, bye."

"Kids' school is cancelled because of the snow, they wanted to know if they could come over early," he said, setting the phone on the coffee table. "Kathy said she wouldn't bring them if I was sick…"

"Maybe it's for the best. Do you really think they'd have a good time throwing away your snotty Kleenex's? Maybe you'll get to see them two weekends in row, then," Olivia said, trying to comfort Elliot. She knew his kids meant the world to him, and only seeing them every other weekend and when he could get away from the station early enough to grab a bite of dinner with them on the weeknights or catch one of their basketball games was killing him. It was eating him up inside, he knew he was a good father, but he always wanted to try harder. As long as he was at this job, he knew he couldn't. Hard as though he tried to hide it, Olivia knew better. She could tell this situation angered him. She just always hoped he would deal with it before it got the best of him.

"You don't have to sleep on that chair all night," Elliot said.

"Always the gentleman, Stabler," she smiled. "I'm fine, honest. I think you forget how young I am – one night in this chair doesn't have the same effect on my youthful body as it does on yours."

He wished Olivia goodnight as he switched the lamp off behind his head. Olivia didn't immediately catch sleep. She let her mind wander carelessly, farther than she usually let it. Then again, most nights she was asleep before her head even hit the pillow. Keeping the blanket pulled tight around her, Olivia tiptoed over to the window. She leaned her head against the cold glass, watching as every breath left the window foggy. She watched the snow fall down, and a single car creep along the road. The night was so quiet. It was easy to think. She had always wanted a family. A real family, like Elliot's. She'd immediately been envious of the relationship he had with his kids and his wife at the beginning of their partnership. As the years wore on, and Kathy eventually left Elliot, she still found herself wishing she had loved and lost, rather than never loving anyone as much as Elliot loved Kathy. She had wished she had a dad like Elliot, someone to hold her in his arms and soothe her in the middle of the night when she woke up from a bad dream. Someone to teach her how to ride a bike and throw like a boy. Someone who wasn't on NYC's most wanted list.

Another car crept past, snow swirling in its headlights, and Olivia yawned. She gently lifted Elliot's glasses off his face and laid them on the table. As she stood there, looking at him sleeping so peacefully, she wanted nothing more than to lie next to him and feel his strong, warm body next to hers. But Olivia respected Elliot more than anyone else in her life, and she would never want to jeopardize what they had going on. She knew the feeling would pass as soon as he traded in those glasses for his contacts. Silently, Olivia curled back up on her chair and let the exhaustion sweep over her.

"Hey, what are you doing up?" Olivia asked as she saw Elliot tip-toeing into the kitchen. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Quarter after four. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I think I just needed more of this," he said, fighting with the childproof lid on the Ny-Quil.

"Here," Olivia said, extending her arm. "How you feeling? Any better?" she asked.

Elliot shrugged his shoulders.

"It's okay to be sick, El. It happens," she said, handing him back the open bottle.

"Doesn't make it any easier," he grumbled. Olivia could hear him moving around in the kitchen. After a few moments, Elliot broke the tense silence.

"Want a push-up?" he asked.

"No thanks," Olivia replied.

She heard Elliot unwrap his frozen treat and pad back to the couch. Sleep came only moments later for Olivia.

Olivia's phone startled her awake from a dream. She squinted at the caller ID. Cragen. She had no concept of what time it was, all she knew was she was probably late for work.

"Benson," she said, her voice still scratchy.

"Olivia, where are you?" he asked, his voice not as stern as she had expected.

After hesitating for a moment too long, she answered, "On my way in?" It came out more as a question than an affirmative statement.

"Hmm, really?" his voice trailed off. "Where are you really?"

Olivia took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, knowing she was stalling with the captain. "Elliot's."

There was a quiet pause on the other end. "Do I want to know why?"

"Cap, he feels awful about what happened. You know him." She lowered her voice, "He's pretty sick. He's got a really high fever, but it'd be like pulling teeth to get him to a doctor," she continued.

"Do your best. And if that doesn't work, tell him Warner analyzed his...deposit...and found an infection. See if that works," he said. "He's still not coming in until he's one hundred percent."

"Fine. I'll be in as soon as I can," she said.

"Actually, I was calling to tell you just stay home. We're not going to get anywhere on the Cooper case today, if I need you, I'll call. It's still nasty outside," Cragen said, his voice softening somewhat. He's always had a soft spot in his heart for Olivia. He admired her strength and determination in her work, especially surrounded by a squadroom full of men. He's always been a little overprotective of her, and he didn't want her putting herself in unnecessary danger.

"Promise you'll call?" Olivia responded.

"Yeah, keep your eye on Elliot. And nothing else. I mean it. I don't need him spreading this bug through the unit," he said, his stern demeanor returning.

"What else do you think I'd put on him, Cap? What kind of order is that?"

"Oh, come on Olivia, it's obvious. Just keep your hands off him, at least until you find out he isn't contagious."

"This conversation is so over."

"I mean it, Olivia," he said.

She slammed her phone shut, not sure what to make of Cragen's statement. She had always thought she'd done a decent job of hiding her feelings for Elliot around the station house. A few comments here and there to Casey, but that was it. She could feel her cheeks grow hot. Oh God, if it was that obvious to Cragen, surely Munch and Fin had picked up on it. What if were talking about it behind her back? The 1-6 was notorious for setting bets, they had to have one going on this. Olivia moaned to herself.

"You okay?" Elliot asked from the couch.

"Yeah, did I wake you?" her voice apologetic.

"No, your phone did," he said, smiling. Smiles are a good sign, she thought to herself. Unless he was listening to what she said. Oh shit, she thought to herself. "Cragen knows you're here?" he asked, his eyes still shut. His voice sounded so weak, Olivia almost couldn't bear it. She should have been glad that Elliot was comfortable enough to be himself and not pretend like he wasn't sick. But she wanted her old partner back. The tough guy. With contacts. She didn't like that she was more attracted to Elliot right now than she had ever been. Maybe it was because he looked so vulnerable, and Olivia knew how to deal with that. She always knew the right thing to say. She dealt with victims everyday who were at their most vulnerable. She didn't like that it would be almost too easy to take advantage of him right now.

"Yeah, he knows," she said, snapping out of it.

"Is he pissed?"

"Of course," Olivia hesitated a moment. "Take your temp one more time."

She expected an argument from him, but he obediently reached for the thermometer from the table and stuck it in his mouth. He closed his eyes again and they sat quietly until it beeped. He tossed the thermometer in her direction.

"Don't have my glasses on."

"Like I want to touch it after it's been in your mouth!" Olivia said, laughing. She glanced down at the readout and her heart sank a little. "One oh four."

"Can I be honest?" Elliot asked Olivia, avoiding eye contact. She nodded, and he continued. "I don't think I've ever felt this horrible before. Ever. And I've been shot," he cracked a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, let's get you to the doctor," she said, reluctantly rising from her warm, cozy spot on the recliner. She walked over to the couch to help Elliot up. "Easy, take it easy," she said softly.

Olivia guided him up the stairs and into his bathroom. "I'll get you some clean clothes, why don't you brush your teeth?"

Olivia noticed Elliot's cheeks turn even pinker after she said that. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"I didn't mean you had bad breath, I just thought it would be refreshing. Besides, I don't think it could get much worse than the 83 Hour No Sleep Anti-Hygiene Work-a-Thon of 02," she teased.

"That was rough, wasn't it?" he smiled at her, and she felt better about teasing him.

Twenty minutes later, Elliot and Olivia were sitting in Elliot's Trailblazer, waiting for the heat to kick in. There had been a minor disagreement about Liv driving Elliot's SUV. But, as she had pointed out, her squad car would not fare well on these horrible streets. Then Elliot had insisted on driving, and Olivia told him his fever must be making him hallucinate because there was no way he was getting behind the wheel. "This is the 21st century, Stabler, women can get their driver's licenses."

Olivia jumped out of the car and began scraping the snow off. It took longer than she had hoped, and her cheeks were beginning to lose feeling. It was like a never ending battle – she'd scrape off the windshield, then run to the back and scrape that off, just to get back up front and the snow had begun accumulating again. She finally gave up and climbed back into the car. Elliot's eyes were closed, she was hoping he was sleeping. She didn't want him patronizing her driving skills. Olivia floored the gas pedal, knowing it was the only way she would get over the mound of snow the plows had left at the end of Elliot's driveway, and once they were safely in the street, she let out a huge breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"Who knew you had balls?" Elliot asked from the passenger seat.

"Oh, shut up and let me drive," Olivia snapped back.

The ride to the hospital was pretty uneventful. Even Olivia had to admit she had never seen the city this quiet. It was so peaceful, and there was actually quite a bit of undisturbed snow, still fresh and white. It was rare to see pretty snow on the ground in New York, and it always made her smile when she did.

Two hours later, Olivia was woken up by a nurse gently shaking her shoulder. "Miss Benson, you can see him now," she said quietly.

Olivia yawned and stretched her arms above her head. She didn't know how long she'd been asleep, but it was long enough for her neck to be sore and her back to ache. She rose to her feet slowly and followed the nurse down the quiet hall to the last door on the left.

"He's expecting you, go on in," the nurse said, pushing the door open for her.

"Thanks," she said, shuffling past the nurse into Elliot's room.

"Hey sleepyhead," Elliot greeted her with a joking smile.

"Well, I had to get some sleep somewhere, you snored all night, so sleep was pretty much out of the question at your place," she teased. She pulled another uncomfortable plastic chair next to Elliot's bed. "Seriously though, how do you feel? Any better? What's the diagnosis?"

"So many questions, Olivia," he said, forcing a smile. For the first time since entering his room, Olivia noticed the IV bag hanging from of hook and leading into his arm, just above his tattoo. It seemed ironic now, how the needle was stuck into his arm right next to the very symbol of Elliot's strength and toughness. He looked so pale, the little fire that had always lit up his face had burnt out.

"I guess you don't have to answer them without your attorney present, but just remember, I'm armed. You're not. Just something to keep in the back of your mind."

He closed his eyes, smiled, and let out a weak "hmmph." A few moments later, he opened his eyes and looked straight into Olivia's beautiful brown ones and said, "Can I tell you something?"

"If you're about to get soft Stabler, just remember what I said about the gun. I'll do it."

"Would you just let me talk, heh? It really means a lot to me that you're here. Look, I know I haven't been the easiest guy to get along with - " Olivia interrupted with her snickering, but Elliot just waited for it to subside before he continued " - and I don't know what I would have done without you. You're really just like a puppy dog - I can be mean to you, yell at you, kick you to the curb but you just keep running back to daddy."

"Thanks, that was really sweet, daddy," Olivia sarcastically replied.

There was a knock at the door, and Olivia was secretly relieved that someone was interrupting. In walked a man that, had it been December, she would have climbed on his lap and told him she wanted a puppy for Christmas. He was average height, with round belly and white hair. The pink cheeks are what sealed the deal for her. She couldn't help but smile to herself, and she couldn't wait to see how Elliot would react with someone who appeared to be pretty upbeat and optimistic. This should be good.

"Hi there, Elliot. Did we get you settled in okay?" he asked, looking as if he were ready to fluff Elliot's pillows if he just said the words.

"Yeah, thanks," Elliot said, his voice seeming to get hoarser with every passing word.

"And who's this beautiful young lady?" the doctor asked, winking at Olivia. She felt herself blush lightly. He was just too cute.

"Uh, that's Olivia, my partner," Elliot loved to use the term 'partner' and let people decide on their own if she was a business partner or they were just incredibly forward-thinking and refused to use gender-related terms to refer to their relationship. This comment didn't phase the doctor one bit.

"She's beautiful," his wink directed at Elliot this time, while he patted Olivia affectionately on the head. "I'm Dr. Ted."

Olivia smiled politely and added, "It's very nice to meet you, Dr. Ted."

"Back to the patient," he said, fumbling with his short, stubby fingers in his white pocket for a pen light. He began humming a familiar tune, it was soft and light, but Olivia couldn't name the song. His back was turned while he looked at Elliot's chart and Olivia and Elliot exchanged glances. He's so cute, she mouthed to him, and Elliot just rolled his eyes.

A few moments later, Dr. Ted turned around holding a popsicle stick and his flashlight. "Okay, open up for me and say 'Ahhh.'"

Elliot obeyed. "Ahhhhhhh." Oh, this was too much, Olivia thought. She tried with all her will power to stifle her laughter. Pretty soon her eyes were watering, and she was wondering how long Dr. Ted would make Elliot sit there with his mouth open like that. It was another few moments before Olivia realized that the doctor had stuck his fingers in Elliot's mouth and Elliot's gag reflex had kicked into high gear.

"Okay, I think I'm done here," Dr. Ted said smiling, while Elliot rubbed his throat and coughed. And coughed. "Did I tickle you, Elliot?" Dr. Ted asked.

"No, I'm fine," Elliot replied, his voice devoid of any humor. Olivia bit the inside of her lips, hoping Elliot wouldn't see the smirk on her face.

"Tonsilitis." Dr. Ted said.

"Tonsilitis? That's it?"

Ignoring Elliot completely, the doctor continued. "When did your throat start to hurt?"

"Uhh, yesterday?" Elliot answered, hesitantly.

"I might not be employed by the NYPD, Elliot, but I am a detective in my own right. While I probably lack your intimidating interrogation skills, I usually find a way to get straight answers. And just remember, before you think about telling another lie, who has the pain medication. Now, let's try this again, when did your throat start to hurt?"

Elliot, struck at how uncomfortable he felt at being on the other side of the interrogation, answered, with conviction, "Monday."

"Alright, now we're getting somewhere." The doctor continued to ask questions about Elliot's health, and Olivia enjoyed watching her partner squirm while admitting he'd probably been too sick to work on at least five but no more than ten occasions in the past few years. God, this doctor was good. In the eight years she had known him, he'd never admit to feeling sick. Ever. He must be in some kind of pain to answer so truthfully and willingly.

After the questioning stopped, Dr. Ted concluded, "Tonsilitis."

"Okay," Elliot said slowly. He looked up expectantly at the doctor, waiting for something. Anything.

"I think it's best if we take them out. I'll get the surgeon to come down and take a look, but this seems like the best option," he said, a little too cheerfully for Elliot's taste.

"I'm not ten. You're not taking my tonsils out. I've had them for 45 years, I'd like to keep them," Elliot said angrily. His statement was less than effective for the doctor, however, considering his voice was weak and raspy.

"Oh, I think you'll change your mind when it feels like there are two golf balls lodged in the back of your throat. You'll come around, Elliot, and when you do, I'll be there with your morphine," he said, chuckling to himself as he exited the room.

There was a tense silence, and Olivia didn't want to be the first one to break it. Luckily, a nurse came in after a few minutes and injected a shot of something into Elliot's IV.

"That's going to make you very sleepy very quickly, but you'll start feeling better soon," she said pleasantly as she left.

"Baby It's Cold Outside!" Olivia said, thankful the name of the song had finally come to her.

"Hmm?" Elliot moaned.

"Nothing," Olivia said as she slowly reached for Elliot's hand. She was shocked when he let her weave her fingers through his. They were rough, like a man's hands should be, and they were strong. He gave her a little squeeze and she smiled at him.

"It might not be so bad, you know. Get some time off work, eat a lot ice cream," her voice trailed off as Elliot's eyes fluttered closed. His hand relaxed in hers, and she gently pulled it out of his grasp. She leaned in close to his face and placed a single kiss on his forehead. Then she backed quietly out of his room, bumping into Dr. Ted in the process.

"Sorry," she whispered apologetically as she closed Elliot's door. She smiled, saying, "He's out cold."

"He's stubborn, that one," the doctor said, pointing toward the door.

"Oh, he's a big softie underneath, he just plays bad cop," Olivia reassured the doctor.

"Do you have a minute," Dr. Ted asked, motioning Olivia to a chair.

"Of course, what is it?"

"He's got a very high fever that I'm keeping a close eye on, and we won't be able to operate until the infection has completely left his system. It could be a few days, and I'd really like to keep him here during that time. I could really use an ally in there," he looked at her expectantly.

"Of course, whatever's best for him. I'll do everything I can to keep him from pulling his weapon on your staff."

"Exactly the answer I was hoping for. He's going to be asleep for a while, why don't you get a cup of coffee or steal a nap?"

"Both of those ideas sound too appealing to pass up. Thanks," she nodded in appreciation at the doctor before heading back into Elliot's room to grab her purse and coat. She thought for a moment before grabbing Elliot's cell phone. She walked downstairs to the lounge where she ordered a cup of coffee. After she dumped a few packets of sugar into the steaming styrofoam cup, she took a seat on a couch and flipped open Elliot's phone. Hesitating for a brief moment, she scrolled through his contacts and hit 'Send' when she reached Maureen's number. She waited nervously until she heard Elliot's daughter pick up.


	5. Chapter 5

"Dad, it's early," she grumbled.

"Hi, Maureen. It's Olivia. Sorry if I woke you," she apologized. She could hear Maureen take a deep breath, and letting it out, said, "What's up?"

"Don't freak out, but I'm at the hospital with your dad," Olivia said.

"What happened?" Maureen asked, suddenly sounding alert.

"He's been sick for a few days, and he's actually going to have his tonsils taken out. I guess I didn't want to be the one to call your mom. I know your dad would have been mad at me, so I thought I'd try you first," Olivia said.

"He's going to be okay, though?"

"Yeah, he's pumped full of medicine right now, so he's asleep. He'll be here for a few days, so I thought maybe you guys could come visit him. I know he'd love to see you."

"Of course, what hospital?"

"St. Kate's. Same one as before."

"I'm beginning to dread phone calls from you, Liv," Maureen said, making Olivia feel slightly bad that she had called her. "I'll call mom and let her know. It's his weekend with the twins, isn't it?"

"Yeah, so I know he'd be excited to see them. And you and Kathleen."

"Thanks for calling, Liv. Sorry about, you know, when I answered."

"Late night?" Olivia asked, smiling to herself.

"Are you asking as a cop?"

"Nope."

"Then yes, very late night. Don't tell dad!"

"I wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart. A girl's gotta have some secrets."

"Are you going to stick around with dad?"

"You know I don't go anywhere without him, he's my protector."

"So I'll see you later," Maureen said, hanging up the phone.

Olivia dialed the station house next, knowing full well that no blizzard would keep Don Cragen from his desk.

"This is Cragen," he answered briskly.

"It's Olivia," she said quietly, for the first time the fact that she was exhausted really kicked in.

"What's up?"

Olivia let out a long yawn before answering. "He has to get his tonsils out. He's got a really high fever so it'll probably be a few days before they can do it, so he'll be here a while."

"And how are you holding up? You sound tired."

"I'm okay," she said, unwilling to admit to Cragen that she hadn't had much sleep.

"It's dead around here, so maybe we'll take a little field trip to see you guys. And Olivia, get some rest."

"Yes, sir," she answered before hanging up.

She dumped the rest of her coffee in the trash and went back up to Elliot's room. She quietly snuck in and curled up on a chair with her coat covering her and she listened to Elliot's steady breathing and was asleep in no time.

Olivia awoke to the sound of voices she recognized, but she struggled to open her eyes. Her back was aching and she was almost positive that her left leg was asleep. She tried moving it, and it was, indeed, fast asleep.

"Why can't you have something cool removed, like a kidney?" she heard Munch say.

"Yeah, they might as well remove your other set of balls while they're at it," Fin added. The sound of all three men laughing was finally enough to get Liv to open her eyes.

"Ahh, Sleeping Beauty awakes," John said.

Olivia could do nothing but groan. Her body hurt and her eyes burned as she pried them open.

"Shut up," she finally managed. "I'm tired. I had to listen to Sir Snores A Lot last night, and let me tell you, he's no one hit wonder."

Elliot made an attempt to sit up. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you want the bed?"

"I'm leaving," she said as she headed to the door.

"Someone's grumpy when she wakes up from her afternoon nap," Munch called after her.

Olivia shot her middle finger up behind her head, hearing as the door slammed behind her, "We already played that game with Elliot yesterday!"

She collapsed in a seat next to Cragen in the hallway. He had his briefcase on his lap, flipping through an open file.

"Why aren't you in there with Dopey, Grumpy and Sneezy?" she asked.

"I have ethical standards," he deadpanned. "Can I be honest?" he asked a few moments later.

"What?"

"You look like hell. It's been a rough week for everyone. I know your bedroom is probably getting ready to file a neglect suit. Why don't you go home and sleep? Although I'm sure it doesn't seem like it now, we actually can take care of ourselves without you around."

"Wow, I had no idea."

"Seriously, Olivia. Sleep, shower, change your clothes. You can even be of some use and bring Elliot his toothbrush. He's sick, he's not dying. He'll still be alive if you come back in a few hours. I'll perform live saving measures myself if I have to."

"Fine," she said, rising from her chair.

"Wow, that was almost too easy," Cragen said in disbelief.

"I'm too tired to argue with you boys, you're all driving me crazy," she said, waving behind her as she walked down the hall.

Back home, Olivia threw herself onto her bed and slept for what felt like an eternity. Or an hour and a half. Olivia slowly trudged to the shower and let the hot water run down her body without moving a muscle. As she inhaled the steam, she began working the kinks out her neck. She was not, she told herself sternly, going to sleep in that damn plastic chair again. After stepping out of the shower, she threw on her favorite pair of Levis and an old jersey shirt. Packing a small bag with her toothbrush and a change of clothes, Olivia left her apartment and headed to Elliot's. After plowing back into his driveway, she let herself in and immediately starting packing Elliot an overnight bag. She felt like she was violating some sort of rule as she was rummaging through his underwear drawer, but she got what she needed, grabbed the book off his nightstand and headed back to the kitchen. She warmed up a bowl of soup for herself and put the rest in the freezer. Since no one would be at his house for at least a couple of days, she turned the thermostat down and turned on a burglar lamp. Then she headed back to the hospital.

Elliot was asleep when she poked her head into his room. She tiptoed to the damn orange chair and pulled out a case file. She had barely begun to review her notes when Elliot stirred.


	6. Chapter 6

"God, Olivia, you should really find a hobby," he grumbled.

"It's nice to see you, too," she replied. Olivia stood up and sat next to Elliot on his bed. She reached for his glassed off the bedside table. "Better to see me with."

"I've seen enough of you lately," he said, and she was glad his sense of humor was still in tact. "What're you working on?" he asked, nodding at her files.

"The Maguire case," she said quietly, hoping he couldn't hear her and he wouldn't ask questions.

"Come on, Liv, we worked day and night on that for the last week, there's nothing there," he said, his voice tired again.

"I just know there's something we're missing. Now we're done talking about it."

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Maureen poked her head in, and Olivia saw Elliot's face light up immediately.

"Hey kiddo, what're you doing here?" he asked, and Olivia could tell he was trying his best to make his voice sound normal.

"I was upstairs getting a pregnancy test and I thought I'd stop by on my way out," she said in a serious tone. It was all Olivia could do not to fall off Elliot's bed laughing.

"Are you _trying _to kill me? It's a good thing I'm already in a hospital," Elliot sounded relieved.

"Mom's outside with the twins, can they come in?"

"Yeah, sure," Elliot smiled and Olivia knew he was excited to see his kids, even if he lying in a hospital bed.

"I'm gonna go, I'll let you hang out with your family," Olivia whispered, tiptoeing to the door.

"No, stay. You just got here. Besides, Lizzie hasn't seen you in forever, you know she'll love to play with your hair," Elliot said, his smile still in tact. He was right, she hadn't seen the kids in a while, and Lizzie liked Olivia's hair because it was shorter than all her sisters' and she liked the way it stuck out when she put it in a ponytail.

"Okay," she agreed, retreating to the opposite side of the room, hoping she would become invisible. The door opened and in barreled Elizabeth and Dickie, Maureen and Kathy following right behind.

"Hi Daddy!" Lizzie squealed, jumping up onto the bed next to Elliot. He buried his face in her hair, squeezing her tight. "Mom says you're sick and we're not supposed to give you a kiss, but I'm going to anyway," she whispered quietly enough for everyone in the entire east wing of the hospital to hear. Lizzie planted a giant kiss on Elliot's forehead and he couldn't stop smiling.

"Daddy, you're hot," she said, climbing off. Maureen let out a little laugh, as did Olivia, whom they all noticed for the first time. "Olivia!" Lizzie giggled as she ran into Olivia's arms. "You're hair's getting long. Guess what? Mom taught me how to braid, want me to braid your hair?"

"I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it," Olivia said, obediently sitting on the floor where Lizzie had instructed her to.

"Elizabeth, it's not nice to ask Olivia to sit on the floor," Kathy said as Lizzie pulled a chair behind Olivia and began running her little fingers through her soft brown hair.

"I don't mind, really," Olivia said smiling politely at Kathy.

It was Dickie's turn to climb up next to Elliot on his bed. He leaned back against Elliot's pillow, and Elliot wrapped a protective arm around Dickie's shoulders.

"How'd you guys know I was here?" Elliot asked, looking in Kathy's direction. All eyes turned to Olivia.

"I was getting sick of listening to you whine and moan, so I called for back up," Olivia said, reaching behind her and tickling Lizzie's leg.

"Well, I'm glad you did," Elliot said, smiling warmly at Olivia. She felt a wave of relief wash over her; she was hoping he wouldn't be angry.

Kathy walked over and sat at the foot of the bed, in the same spot Olivia had occupied only a few minutes ago. She looked at Kathy's face. It seemed paler than usual, and her eyes were dark, they didn't light up like they used to when she was in the presence of her husband. Her hair was shorter, and she looked older than Olivia remembered. The divorce wasn't wearing well on her, either. Olivia liked Kathy, she really did. She was a great mom and she loved Elliot so much.

But somehow, Olivia always felt that Kathy resented her. She knew that Elliot was faithful, but she was jealous of the time he spent with Olivia. Kathy knew Elliot, but not like Olivia did. Olivia knew that unless Elliot ate breakfast in the morning, he'd get sick at the sight of blood. She knew that his first coffee in the morning had two sugars and creamer, and as the day wore on, he took it black. She knew he could go all day without eating, and he claimed he was fine. But she knew that after three hours he got cranky. She knew he liked the taste of pickle on his turkey on rye, but not the actual pickle. She knew that he claimed to hate chocolate, but he secretly ate all of the brown M&M's from Olivia's stash. She knew that he could go only four hours before loosening his tie. He rubbed the bridge of his nose when he felt a sneeze coming on. Or when he was at a crime scene and the victim was a child and he was thinking about his own kids. She knew he rubbed his forehead when he needed caffeine. She knew that he rubbed the back of his neck when he was lying to a perp in the interrogation room. She knew the difference between his work smile and his home smile. He wrinkled his nose just a little bit when talking about Kathy or his kids. And lately, Olivia. But that's where her knowledge of Elliot ended. Kathy knew the rest. She knew just the right words to whisper in his ear after a long day. She knew his left foot, not his right, was his ticklish one. She knew where his secret tattoo was. She knew what Elliot's chest felt like under the sheets. She knew the intimate things about him, things that Olivia could never know.

Olivia was startled out of her trance by a tug on her hair.

"Ouch," she said, instinctively putting her hand up to the back of her head.

"Quit being such a baby," Lizzie said, playfully pulling her hair tighter. Olivia erupted in giggles. She missed these kids. They had such big hearts and were so full of love, always forgiving their father for spending his time helping other people. They had their dad's sense of humor, and Kathy's kindness. Olivia knew that Maureen had her dad's intensity, and he hated that. They fought – a lot.

"Three whole days?" Dickie was asking, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yeah, you can do whatever you want and Daddy can't yell," Lizzie said matter-of-factly.

"I don't know about that," Elliot said, laughing.

"There, all done, Olivia," Lizzie said, patting her shoulders. Olivia stood up, her bottom sore from the cold, hard linoleum.

"How do I look?" she asked, whipping her head around for everyone to see her new hairdo. By the looks on everyone's faces, she already knew the answer. Elliot was the first to recover.

"Like you're ready for a runway show," he said, nodding at the others. "You did a great job, Lizzie."

Olivia caught Maureen in a yawn, and she realized she had probably had a long day. After all, Olivia had called and woken her up this morning.

"I was thinking of running to grab a cup of coffee. Wanna come, Maureen?" Olivia asked, grabbing her purse off the back of Lizzie's chair.

"Yeah, sure," she said, following Olivia to the door. "Be back in a little bit, Dad."

They were quiet as the rode the elevator downstairs to the coffee cart.

"What can I get for you? I owe you for waking you up this morning," Olivia said.

"Coffee's fine. One cream, two sugars."

"Just like your dad," Olivia said smiling. She ordered and handed the barista correct change and headed to the sofa where Maureen was curled up. She handed one of the steaming cups to her, and Maureen inhaled the rich aroma. Her face instantly lit up, and Olivia knew this truly was her partner's daughter.

"Did you at least have fun last night?" Olivia asked, her eyes peering over the top of her coffee cup.

Maureen's cheeks turned bright pink. "It was my roommate's birthday, so we went out. Our friend is a bouncer at one of the campus bars, so he lets us in." She smiled, and Olivia was glad that Maureen opened up a little bit to her. She knew it was hard for her to talk to her dad. God, Olivia would be scared if Elliot were her father. So she always made a point to check in with the girls, make sure they were making smart choices. Then when Elliot would worry, Olivia could calm his fears somewhat.

"How are your classes going?" Olivia asked.

"Pretty good. I have a test in Western Political Theory Tuesday, so I'll be studying a lot. It's a really great class. That and Short Stories," Maureen answered.

"Reading or writing?"

"Both. We turn in our character analyses and plot next week for our own original stories. I'm kind of nervous, but it's really fun. Dad always said I have a wild imagination."

Olivia knew this to be true. Elliot was really proud of his kids, and he was always happy when they found something to be passionate about. Maureen loved stories. She used to read to the kids before bed every night until she started college last year. She'd tell Elliot these wild stories and Elliot would just shake his head and worry she would turn out like Munch.

"How've you been, Olivia? I haven't seen you in forever."

"Okay, it's been a long couple of weeks, but things are good."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Who has the time?" Olivia replied, laughing.

"Tell me about it," Maureen joined in Olivia's laughter. After a few moments, the laughter subsided and Maureen turned serious. "How's dad been? I mean, I know he's sick, but other than that. He seems really distant lately."

"He misses you guys a lot, I know that much. He hasn't really been himself since your mom left." Olivia knew that maybe she was crossing a line, telling Elliot's daughter about his problems. But if anyone could help pull him out of his downward spiral, it would be the blonde haired, blue-eyed beauty in front of her.

"He gets mad a lot. We've been fighting a lot more. I mean, we used to disagree. But now when we do, he pushes and pushes. He doesn't know when to let up. He's hurting. You can see it in his eyes, in his smile."

"Does he sleep?" Maureen asked. But before Liv could answer, she said," Mom doesn't sleep. She cries, yells more. She never used to yell. I know she misses him, but they were so unhappy. They couldn't figure out how to make it work."

Olivia saw the hurt in Maureen's eyes, and she wondered if her life was harder, having two parents who loved her, but couldn't figure out how to love each other. Olivia couldn't tell which pain was worse, Maureen's or growing up without a dad and having a mom who resented her.

"This is when you're supposed to say things are going to get better," Maureen said, looking into Olivia's eyes.

"I don't know if they do," Olivia replied honestly.

"What were your parents like?" Maureen asked quietly. She couldn't possibly know what Olivia's childhood was like. Of course, Olivia had given Elliot the okay to tell Kathy, but she was sure they wouldn't tell the children. She looked into Maureen's eyes and knew that if she told her, Maureen would feel better about her parents' situation. But this was something so intimate, so personal, for Olivia. Olivia had let very few people close to her, and she had only told those people she trusted immensely.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before answering. "I never met my father. He raped my mother when she was in college, and she had me." Olivia looked up from her coffee cup to see the look of sadness in Maureen's eyes. But she didn't speak. She didn't immediately rush over to Olivia and apologize for something that clearly she had no control over. She bowed her head slightly, and Olivia continued.

"For the most part, my mom blamed me for everything that went wrong with her life. I was a constant reminder of the worst day of her life. She drank a lot, she died a few years ago."

"And I thought my parents' divorce was bad," Maureen attempted to lighten the mood.

"Well, if all you know is happiness and love, and something comes along to upset that balance, it can be hard," Olivia explained.

"Do you think he'll be happy again?" Maureen asked. Olivia could tell that she was desperately trying to keep her family from falling apart. A divorce is hard, Olivia could tell from Elliot's behavior. On top of that, this teenager was trying to assure her brother and sisters that their parents were going to be okay.

"I don't think he's unhappy, honey. He's just really sad that he doesn't get to see his babies as much as he wants to," Olivia tried to reassure her.

"He likes you, you know," Maureen said slyly.


	7. Chapter 7

"Oh, would you look at that? My coffee's empty," Olivia said, standing up. But Maureen wasn't going to let her get away with it that easily.

"Come on, Liv," Maureen said, following Olivia back up to the coffee cart.

Doing her best to ignore Maureen's comments, Olivia ordered two hot chocolates and set her money on the counter.

"Well, I'm glad you're spending time with him, anyway. But he is good looking, if you can get past the whole male pattern baldness thing," Maureen said, laughing.

"I'm not even going to justify that with an answer," Olivia said as she picked up the two steaming cups of cocoa. "Come on, let's go."

Maureen was beaming the whole way up to Elliot's room. When they walked in, Olivia passed the hot chocolate to the twins and Elliot gave her a gracious smile. She joined Kathy by the door. She couldn't not talk to her for much longer.

"Thanks for calling Mo this morning," Kathy said, smiling warmly at Olivia, effectively breaking the ice between the two women in Elliot's life. "He said you stayed with him last night. And made chicken noodle soup from scratch. That's impressive."

"It was nothing, I was glad to do it. Until he woke me up snoring about six times," Olivia said, laughing.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Kathy laughed, too. Olivia suddenly realized how awkward this conversation was. She was crossing into Kathy territory. She was talking about Elliot's snoring, something that's so intimate and embarrassing. Then her phone rang. Olivia was secretly relieved. She apologized to Kathy and snuck out the door.

"Benson," she said.

"It's Melinda, I have something from the Cooper case down here you might wanna see," she said.

"Sure, I'll be there as soon as I can," Olivia said, snapping her phone shut. She snuck back in the room and grabbed her coat and shoulder bag from Elliot's nightstand.

"Leaving?" he asked, sitting up a little.

"Yeah, duty calls," she said, smiling at Elliot. His face fell a little bit. She knew it would be hard for him to handle her going to work without him.

"Be careful," he said quietly.

"Why, are you still worried about your truck?" she teased.

"You're not taking it," he groaned.

"I can, and I am. Bye guys," she said, squeezing the kids tight before she left. She gently rested her hand on Kathy's shoulder on her way out and quietly said, "I'll see you later."

"Goodnight," Kathy replied, smiling at Olivia.

Olivia spent the next sixteen hours working the Cooper case. She had been to the lab, back to the crime scene, and then at the station house, where she was working with Fin on some paperwork. Their suspect was in the interrogation room with his lawyer and Casey. Fin and Olivia were both glad to have caught the bastard that killed Audrey Cooper as a hazing stunt for his fraternity. But now they were going to be buried in paperwork for the rest of the afternoon.

Olivia inhaled deeply and mumbled, "Mmm, smell that?"

Cragen entered the squad room with three plastic bags. He dropped them on Olivia's desk and she immediately recognized them.

"Oh my God, you're my hero," she said, pulling out the containers of Chinese.

"You need to get your head checked?" Fin asked.

Olivia ignored him, opening all the containers until she found her favorite, sesame chicken.

"Hey, that's not all for you," Cragen said. "Make sure you save some for Casey." But it was too late, Olivia was inhaling her food. They sat making small talk while they ate, all avoiding the inevitable stack of paperwork that lay before them.

At five, she finally pulled her coat on and grabbed her bag. She thanked Fin for finishing up, and she headed out the door. She desperately wanted to go home and throw herself on her bed and not get up for anything. Then she thought of Elliot lying in the hospital, and her guilt overcame her. She climbed behind the wheel of his SUV and headed to St. Kate's. She stopped for coffee on her way in, too tired to even pour in cream or sugar, she drank it black.

She tapped lightly on Elliot's door before letting herself in. He looked up from his book and smiled at her. He looked worse than yesterday, if that was possible. He looked comfortable sitting there in his favorite Giants sweatshirt.

"Still here, huh?" she asked.

"Were you hoping to find someone else?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Olivia resisted the urge to sympathize for him, knowing full well that he would get irritated if she babied him. But the sound of his voice made her sad.

"George Clooney, maybe. Or at least a cute male nurse attending to your needs," she said, trying to lighten the mood. She fell heavily into the chair next to his bed and sipped her coffee.

"Seriously, what are you doing here? You look like you got hit by a bus, stepped in a puddle and found out your dog died," he said.

"Wow, and to think I cleaned up for you."

He smiled at her, relieved that she still had her sense of humor after working so long. He knew she wouldn't admit outright that she was tired. So he tried to drag it out of her. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's just, sometimes I'm disgusted by what people do," she said, shaking her head and thinking about Audrey Cooper's murderer.

"Tough case?"

"Better. Closed case."

"Already?"

"Fin is one hell of a substitute," she teased.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Nah, you buy me coffee. I'd never bite the hand that feeds me."

Elliot noticed Olivia struggling to keep her eyes open. "Why don't you get some sleep? I can keep myself entertained. The twins brought me a care package today," he said as he gestured to the nightstand.

"That's sweet of them," she said, yawning.

Elliot watched her succumb to exhaustion. She pulled her jacket tight up around her chin and her breathing became heavy. He sat, watching her sleep peacefully. Her brown hair falling into her eyes. He couldn't believe she had taken such good care of him. They'd been partners for a long time, but Kathy had always been there for him. They were friends, they looked out for each other, but Olivia had sensed that he needed her, and she was there. He felt a wave of exhaustion creep over his body, and he closed eyes and let it carry him away.

Olivia awoke to the sound of a familiar voice. It took her a few moments for her to realize she was at the hospital and the voice was Elliot's.

"No," he groaned. "No, stop, no. Leave…"

She sat up straight, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. A glance at Elliot's alarm clock told her it was late. Really late. And she had been asleep on that chair for seven hours. Her body ached and her stomach growled.

Elliot's voice pierced the silent room. He was having a nightmare. Unsure of what to do, she rose from her chair and sat next to Elliot, attempting to soothe him.

"It's okay, Elliot. Calm down, it's just a dream. Shhh," she said as gently as she could muster.

"No, get away. That's…my partner," his breath quickened. Olivia's stomach lurched when she realized he was dreaming of her. "No, leave her alone. Liv, I love you."


	8. Chapter 8

She was shocked. She didn't know what to do. She instinctively crawled into bed next to him and continued to reassure him. "El, I'm right here, it's okay."

He mumbled something else she couldn't understand and she wrapped her arm across his chest and closed her eyes.

Elliot woke up, groggy and unaware of what time it was. His throat ached and he was burning up. He lifted his arm, trying to rub the fog from his eyes, and he became vaguely aware that of the body that was lying next to him in bed. He reached his glasses on the nightstand and was startled to find Olivia curled up next to him, her arm flung protectively over his chest. Elliot had no recollection of her climbing in his bed. She looked so peaceful, he didn't want to wake her. But he was so hot. He wanted to rip his sweatshirt off and kick back the blankets. He gently shook her shoulder.

"Liv," he whispered, partly because he didn't want to startle her and partly because that was all the voice he had left. "Olivia, hey, wake up."

"Hmmm," she mumbled.

"Liv, seriously, wake up," he pleaded with her.

She opened her eyes, a look of confusion coming over her face. "What?" she asked, looking around for some clue as to why she was in Elliot's hospital bed. She clumsily climbed out and looked at Elliot for answers. "What happened?" she asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"I don't know," he whispered, "I was hoping you could tell me."

Olivia sat on the chair and pulled her knees up to her chin. Stifling a yawn, she answered Elliot. "You were having a dream. A nightmare, I guess. I was trying to calm you down, but you wouldn't wake up. I don't know, I was so tired, I didn't feel like struggling with you, so I guess climbing in seemed like the best option," she said, her voice tired and strained.

"Sorry, I'm just so tired," Elliot said, rubbing his forehead.

"Yeah, I know. I'm tired, too, El," she said in an irritated tone.

"Then go home, get some sleep. No one's forcing you to stay."

Olivia was surprised by his tone, but maybe more surprised that she was getting angry with him. He was sick, and here she was, balling her fists.

"Right, no one's forcing me to stay. And if it wasn't for me, you'd probably still be lying on your couch, too stubborn to go to the doctor."

"Believe it or not, Olivia, I can survive without you," he said, his voice still weak, but his anger showing on his face.

"I was just trying to be nice," she said quietly, desperately wanting to end this fight.

"Get a hobby, Olivia," Elliot said, not taking her cue.

"You're such an asshole!" Olivia said, her words getting louder. "Did it ever occur to you why I stayed?"

Elliot looked down at his hands, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"Do you know what you said in your sleep last night?" Olivia couldn't even believe these words were coming out of her mouth. Elliot looked up at her in surprise. He didn't remember his dreams, and he was certainly nervous about he said. Olivia didn't wait for him to answer. The words slipped out before she could stop them. "You said you loved me."

Elliot's stomach flip-flopped and Olivia looked surprised at her sudden urge to make Elliot feel uncomfortable. Neither of them said anything. Maybe because they didn't believe it. Or maybe because they never actually thought either of them would acknowledge what everyone else had known for years now. That the two of them were perfect for each other. That they loved each other more than they each knew. Olivia bit her lip, suppressing tears that were threatening to fall down her cheeks. Elliot wanted more than anything to say something. But he couldn't. He was frozen. He did love her, but he couldn't find the words to say it to her right now. Olivia hastily grabbed her coat and bag and headed for the door. She hesitated with her hand on the handle.

"Love," she said quietly, her back to him. She slowly turned toward him, a single tear sliding down her cheek, a look of sadness in her eyes. Sad like Elliot had never seen. "Love it what you stay for," she said, walking out.


	9. Chapter 9

Elliot couldn't believe she had actually left. He had made her cry and she left him. He hated seeing women cry. It always broke his heart when he'd see Kathy or his daughters cry. He wanted more than anything to make them feel better, but what could he do when he was the one who made the tears fall? He hoped Olivia would come back. They had to straighten all this out. All these thoughts were rushing to his mind. Had he really told her he loved her? He did, didn't he? Love her? Of course, but he would never tell her. That's not the kind of relationship they had. Besides, he had given his heart to Kathy a long time ago, and she still had a little piece of it. It wouldn't be fair to Olivia.

A nurse walked in and interrupted his thoughts. When she asked how he felt, he asked for more pain medication. All he wanted was to fall asleep and not think about anything that had just happened. Luckily, the drugs took effect almost instantly and Elliot slept.

Elliot had no more visitors on Sunday. This was fine by him, he slept most of the day. He wasn't up for seeing anyone anyway. He had just made his partner cry. The only woman that had been there for him wholeheartedly for the past eight years. She never let him wallow in self pity after Kathy left him. She was the only reason he got out of bed some mornings because he knew if he didn't, she'd come banging on his door. He'd never told her how much he appreciated her compassion and support. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize their partnership.

"Knock knock," Elliot heard a familiar voice arouse him from his dreams.

"Hey guys," he said, his voice just above a whisper. He was feeling better, his fever was gone, but his throat was so raw it hurt to speak at all.

Fin and Munch made their way to Elliot's bedside. Munch opened the flap of his trench coat to reveal a familiar Styrofoam container. "Brought you some lunch," he said smiling.

Elliot happily took the cup and tasted the delicious strawberry milkshake. "I think I just fell in love with you," Elliot said, winking at John.

"So that's how you wound up with all those ex-wives," Fin said, laughing.

John ignored them both. "How you doing, man?" he asked Elliot seriously.

"Why do people ask that? Do you really care?" Elliot answered.

"Yeah, I care. Olivia's been moping around the station for days, she's like a lost puppy without you there," Munch said.

A wave of guilt rushed through Elliot. He tried to regain his composure. "Yeah, I have that effect on women," he said, smiling at the guys, hoping they wouldn't see through his act.

"Man, you sound awful," Fin said.

"Jesus, Fin, way to kick a man when he's down," Munch said coming to the defense of Elliot.

"No, he's right, I do," Elliot said. His milkshake was making him shiver, so he pulled the blanket tight around his chin. The two detectives stayed for a few minutes before leaving to catch lunch.

"We'll check in with you tomorrow," Fin said as they left the room.

Silence. Elliot hated being alone with his thoughts. He flipped on the TV, mindlessly flipping through the channels, skipping the soaps he'd never been home to watch during the day. Nothing could take his mind off Olivia. He tried sleeping, reading, even coloring in the Harry Potter coloring book Lizzie had brought him. He just couldn't erase the image of Olivia with tears in her eyes. Tears he had brought to those beautiful brown eyes. He wanted more than anything for her to walk through that door so he could look into her eyes and beg for forgiveness. For making her question their friendship. He needed to explain to her what happened. Did he even know what happened? Could he really be having these thoughts about his partner? Could this feeling really be mutual? What did she mean with those words 'Love is what you stay for?' Because she had stayed. She had stayed because she loved him. Olivia had never been good with words and feelings, and she had finally told him how she felt, and he had made her cry.

Elliot happily accepted medicine the rest of the afternoon. He slept almost straight through the night, waking only once when a nurse took his temperature. When he awoke in the morning, he could feel the sunlight streaming through his blinds onto his bed. It was warm, and he didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to think about surgery or Olivia. He just wanted to fall back asleep and wake up a week ago when things were normal. When he hadn't made his best friend cry.

But he had to wake up. A nurse made him change into a gown and climb into a new bed. The doctors were all talking to him, but he wasn't listening. He just wanted the medicine to make him sleepy. He closed his eyes as they wheeled him down the hall, but opened them when he heard a familiar voice from behind.

"Wait," she pleaded, running after the nurse wheeling Elliot to surgery.


	10. Chapter 10

He smiled to himself, knowing it was really early for her to be awake, but it meant the world knowing that she had come.

"You know, it'd be really considerate of you to plan this kind of thing later in the day, when I'm fully functional and awake," she said, kissing Elliot on the forehead.

"I'll remember that for next time, Maureen," he said, smiling at his daughter.

"I'm gonna grab coffee, I'll be here when you wake up," she said, her eyes still tired and her voice groggy.

"Promise?" Elliot said, suddenly glad that someone was going to be there for him.

"Scout's honor," she said, holding up three fingers. "Love you!"

A few hours later, Elliot began to wake up. He was aware he was in bed – not his own bed, but a bed nonetheless. He felt funny, his body leaden. Slowly things starting coming back to him. Sick, hospital, tonsils. Gone. He didn't feel a thing, though. No pain. He also realized there was something in his hand. Another hand, perhaps. A soft one, he could tell, his senses coming back to him. He could barely muster enough energy to squeeze it, but it must have worked because the owner of the anonymous hand squeezed back.

"Hey, you waking up?" he heard her ask. He vaguely recognized the voice. His daughter. Right, she had been there before surgery. She was here now, with him. Holding his hand. He forced his eyes open, but everything was blurry. He couldn't see without his glasses. He clumsily lifted his arm off the bed and poked at his eyes, hoping she would get the hint.

"Here you go," she said softly, sliding his glasses over his nose. He smiled, or at least he thought he smiled. He couldn't really feel his lips, or anything remotely close to his mouth.

"The doctor said everything went fine, you did great," Maureen comforted him. His eyes fluttered closed and he felt her place her hand on his forehead. "Can I get you anything? You're not supposed to talk, but you can write it down. Or use sign language, but I don't know sign language, so that might not be the best way to communicate," she said, and he appreciated the hint of sarcasm in her voice. He nodded his head and she handed him a dry erase board and helped him hold the marker in his hand. He felt useless as he wrote chicken scratch on the board. He was so tired, it took all his energy to write a single word.

"Cold?" she asked. "Want another blanket?" He nodded his head slightly as she pulled the covers up to his chin. He started to write thanks on the board, but got only as far as the 'a' when she said "You're welcome."

He nodded off to sleep again, her hand still intertwined with his. An hour later, Maureen, with one hand flipping the pages of her notebook, felt her dad squeeze her other hand. He was clutching his stomach and he had sweat beads on his forehead.

"What is it, dad?" she asked, a look of concern on her face. Elliot covered his mouth, trying anything to suppress the nausea he was feeling. He looked desperately at his daughter. From out of nowhere she grabbed a banana bucket for him to be sick in. It was horrible, his throat felt like it was on fire and he couldn't catch his breath. Maureen wiped his mouth with a washcloth and helped him settle back on his pillow.

"I'm going to grab a nurse, I'll be right back," she said gently.

Elliot closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, wishing his daughter didn't have to see him like this. He was a grown man and his teenage daughter was taking care of him. He fought off another wave of nausea and Maureen came back with a nurse.

The nurse smiled warmly at Elliot, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Now there're those beautiful blue eyes I've heard so much about," she said, winking at Elliot. He felt his cheeks grow even hotter. "Stomach a little upset?" she asked, looking over his chart.

Elliot nodded slowly.

Lifting his arm off the bed, she asked, "On a scale of one to five, how much pain are you in? How many fingers?"

Elliot felt like he was in kindergarten. He stole a glance at Maureen, who had a look of worry and concern on her face. He held up two fingers.

"Only a two?" the nurse asked, raising her eyebrows.

Elliot sighed and lifted another finger.

"Well, you're lucky, Mr. Stabler. I come bearing gifts," she said, lifting a needle off the tray she had carried in. Elliot felt his stomach sink, he didn't want any more needles.

The nurse must have sensed his uneasiness, "Don't worry, I just shoot this straight into your IV. It's going to make you a little sleepy, but you'll feel much better when you wake up."

After she injected the medicine, she patted Elliot on the shoulder again and retreated to the door.

"Honey, come and get me if you need anything else," she said to Maureen. Maureen nodded and climbed next to Elliot on the bed.

"That was really gross," she said after a few minutes of silence.

Elliot couldn't help but shake his head at his daughter.

"Here, let me get that," she said, using the washcloth to wipe his lips. At least he thought she wiped his lips, he still couldn't feel them. He began poking at his face, wishing he could feel his lips.

"Don't worry, just a little slobber," Maureen said, making herself comfortable in her chair. She pulled her notebook onto her lap and brushed her hair out of her face. Elliot missed her so much, and even though he'd been asleep all day, he was glad she was there. He was embarrassed that his daughter was wiping the drool off his chin.

"Who would have thought the day would actually come when I had to wipe your face and tuck you into bed," she teased, knowing her dad couldn't make any sarcastic comments in return.

"Now get some sleep, I have to study, I have an exam tonight," she said, burying her nose in her book. Elliot obeyed, closing his eyes and letting the medicine work it's magic.


	11. Chapter 11

Elliot begged his eyes to remain shut, but they wanted desperately to open. Among the stale, sterile hospital scent, Elliot detected the rich aroma of coffee. His lips curled into a smile and he slowly wiped the sleep from his eyes.

"Mmmm," he managed to grumble, wishing he was holding the coffee in his hands, letting the steam rise to his nose. He hadn't had coffee in five days, and although the thought of anything entering his body made him nauseas, he longed for a sip.

After blinking a few times, Maureen came into focus. She gently placed his glasses in his hand, and he slipped them on.

"How ya feeling?" she asked sympathetically.

Elliot simply shrugged his shoulders, irritated that he couldn't communicate any better. He was feeling better, his head was clearing up. Although his body ached and his throat burned, he was happy that his mind wasn't in a fog anymore.

"The doctor came in a little bit ago and pried your mouth open, he said everything looked good," she said, setting her book aside and, sliding Elliot's legs over, made herself comfortable at the foot of his bed. He was surprised she was still here, but grateful nonetheless.

"Mom called about an hour ago to check in on you," she said, and Elliot was relieved that she kept talking. He missed the sound of her voice so much. She was so outgoing and never at a loss for words, and in that regard, she was the complete opposite of the man lying before her. He was the quiet, brooding type.

Elliot held up his hand, motioning for the dry erase marker.

"Lizzie sends a hundred and four kisses," Maureen said, handing Elliot the marker and board, and they both laughed at the youngest daughter's get well wish.

"You don't have to stay," Elliot wrote.

"I know, but I have an exam in night class tonight and I needed someplace quiet to study. But if I had known about the puking and the drool, I might have given the library a second thought," Maureen joked.

Elliot smiled and thought for a moment before writing, "Tell me everything you know." It was a game he used to play with Maureen when she was little. He'd come home from work and Maureen would bombard him with stories from school, desperate for any attention her dad would give her. He used to lie in bed with her at night and ask her to tell him everything she knew. She would talk and talk, her voice getting quieter, her words slowing down, until she fell asleep. Elliot cherished those memories of a time when his whole family was together. They were happy. He was in love with his wife. Not his partner.

Maureen started off, Elliot listened intently. She told him everything about her sisters and brother, things Elliot missed on a daily basis. Maureen, even though she lived on campus, saw his children more than he did. He savored every morsel of information she shared. She talked about classes, spring break, the snow. And then finally, the good stuff. She had always saved the best parts for right before she fell asleep.

"I had a couple of dates last week," she said quietly, fidgeting with her hands. Elliot's heart skipped a beat. He always got so protective of his daughters at the slightest mention of a boy in their lives. He nodded at her, encouraging her to continue.

"You'd probably like him, which is sort of a deal breaker," she said, laughing.

"Details, come on," Elliot whispered, using his voice for the first time.

"Okay, okay. Well, this is so corny, but I met him at church. He sat down next to me and our hands met reaching for the kneeler," her cheeks turned pink.

Elliot couldn't help but smile. She looked happy, and after everything he'd put his family through, they deserved happiness.

"He's tall, not as tall as you though, dark hair, dimples, green eyes," she said, looking lost in her thoughts.

"When do I get to meet the green-eyed monster?" Elliot wrote on his white board.

"Shut up! I knew I shouldn't have told you," she said, playfully smacking her dad's arm. "I haven't even told him you're a cop yet, he'd probably go running in the other direction. I'm going to keep this one from you for a while. And I'm withholding personal information about him so just get it out of your mind – you're not running a background check on him. And really, we've only been out three times. We were supposed to have lunch today, but I had to cancel, something came up," she teased.

Elliot felt bad that his daughter had cancelled her plans, but his time with her was scarce, so he appreciated her sacrifice.

"Happy?" he asked her.

She broke into a huge grin, blushing again. "You know, it wouldn't be so horrible if you tried to be happy again. You know, try the dating thing?"

Elliot closed his eyes and shook his head. "Got someone in mind?" he wrote.

He couldn't help but think back to the other night when Olivia and Maureen had gone off for coffee together. Had they talked about it? Surely Olivia wouldn't tell his daughter how miserable he had really been.

"She likes you, too, you know," Maureen said.


	12. Chapter 12

And the hits just keep on coming. "Get off my bed!" he scribbled furiously.

"Come on, Dad," she pleaded. "You guys are perfect for each other. Everyone knows it, you're just too stubborn to admit it."

She stayed on his bed, he should have known she wouldn't give up so easily. After all, she did have Elliot's stubborn attitude and temper. He motioned her closer, his voice was weak and what he wanted to say would be more effective coming from his mouth, not the dry erase board.

"We had a fight," he struggled to utter those words.

"You and Olivia? About what?" Maureen took her dad's hand and looked at him sympathetically.

"Us. Me and her," he said quietly, hanging his head. "We said some things. And you know, some words aren't meant to be spoken."

"But sometimes you've got to say something," she said, trying to reassure her dad, whom she'd never seen look so defeated.

He had tried so hard to suppress his feelings about the divorce around his kids so they wouldn't worry. But here, it was different. This was Olivia he was talking about. Maureen could tell he loved her, it had always been there, the elephant in the room no one dared to bring up. But to hear him finally admit it, it was hard.

Silence. Neither knew what else to say. Maureen was the first to speak after they took a few minutes to collect their thoughts.

"Dad," she said, squeezing his hand, "it's okay to want to be happy again. Mom's miserable, you're miserable. We need someone happy. The kids need to see you happy. Whatever you have to do to fix this, do it. We want our old dad back."

Elliot could see tears forming in his daughter's eyes. He had completely missed the part of her life when she became such a grown-up, so intelligent. Her words struck a chord with Elliot. She was always looking out for Dickie and her sisters, and it meant so much to hear her say she wanted him to be happy. He pulled her in close for a hug and rubbed her back.

He whispered softly in her ear, "What would I do without you? I love you."

He said those words a lot to his kids, but she always enjoyed hearing them.

"Love you, too," she whispered back.

There was a knock on the door. Maureen jumped off the bed, wiping her eyes. Elliot smiled at her. There were no words to express how much he appreciated their conversation.

He nodded toward the door and, taking a deep breath, she opened it.

"Uncle John! Finnigan!" she squealed, excitedly throwing her arms around the men.

Elliot believed one hundred percent that his kids were the only ones in the world who could get away with calling Munch and Fin ridiculous nicknames.

"It's good to see you, sweetheart," Munch said, returning Maureen's embrace. Elliot smiled at the sight of Munch melting in his daughter's arms.

"My turn," Fin said, pushing John out of the way so he could wrap his arms around Maureen. "Damn, you're getting tall," he said, squeezing Maureen tight.

"Don't say his name too loud, he's trying to up his street cred," John said, walking toward Elliot's bed.

"She can call me anything she likes," Fin headed to the bed, his arm still draped around Maureen's shoulders.

Elliot felt like he was in a tank at the aquarium. They just stood there looking at him.

"He's not allowed to talk," Maureen laughed.

"This should be fun then," Munch said dryly.

"How you doing for real, Elliot?" Fin asked.

Elliot shrugged his shoulders, whispering "okay" in response.

"You should have seen him earlier," Maureen said, eyeing her dad.

He gave her the look. The look that every daughter knows well. The if-you-even-think-about-it-I'm-going-to-ground-you-until-you're-thirty look.

"But he's much better now," she said, quickly recovering from her dad's glare.

"We really can't stay, we caught a case, have to get downstairs for an interview," John apologized.

"Cap and Casey send their love," Fin said.

Elliot smiled, but deep down he wished they had said Olivia. He wanted to see her, talk to her more than anything. He couldn't stand it anymore.

"Liv?" he asked expectantly.

Munch and Fin exchanged glances and turned back to Elliot.

"She won't be talking to you for real long time, buddy. Captain's got her doing all your paperwork that's overdue. She was less than thrilled, as you can expect," Fin said.

"If I had to spend days deciphering your chicken scratch notes, it'd be a long time before I wanted to wish you well," John said sarcastically.

Elliot forced a smile and felt a wave of exhaustion hit his body. He rubbed his eyes, wanting more than anything to go to sleep and forget that Olivia hadn't come by. Although he couldn't blame her. But he needed to talk to her, and in his condition, it would be impossible for days.

"That's your cue to leave, boys," Maureen said, ushering the men to the door.

"Thanks," Elliot said, thankful they had stopped by.

"See you later, man," John said, waving as he left.

Fin grabbed Maureen for one more hug and said, "Take care of your old man."

Maureen sat back down on her chair, pulling her book onto her lap. She looked at Elliot with her big blue eyes. The sadness in them told him she knew what he was feeling. She smiled, and he closed his eyes and let sleep settle over him.

Elliot awoke a few hours later to the sound of his name.

"Hmmph," he mumbled, fighting to open his eyes.

"Elliot," he heard again.

"Dad!" a familiar voice yelled as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. His glasses miraculously appeared over his eyes, making things clearer. He saw Kathleen's face inches from his own, and he couldn't help but smile.

"There he is," she said, a goofy expression on her face. "Time to rise and shine, sleepyhead," she giggled, using his favorite wake-up call.

He realized he had an audience and he felt his face flush, wondering how long they'd been trying to wake him up.

The doctor and nurse started talking to him, poking around in his mouth, taking his temperature, all the while, he sat there like a good little boy.

"Everything looks good, Elliot. Get a goodnight's sleep and you can leave in the morning," the doctor said, exiting the room.

"End of his shift, he gets cranky when he's hungry," the nurse said, winking at Elliot. "Don't worry, I have everything you need to know."

She proceeded to give Elliot instructions about going home, check-ups, anything he could possibly need to know to care for himself in the coming weeks.

"So, we just need someone to sign you out in the morning and you'll be good to go," she said, and Elliot's heart sank. He hadn't planned far enough ahead. He had just assumed he'd go home alone, but after listening to the nurse, there was no way he'd be able to do this all on his own.

Elliot thought about what to do while the nurse took his IV out of his arm. "It's going to be sore, maybe a little bruising," she said. He nodded absentmindedly, not really paying attention to her. God, this was embarrassing. He was a grown man and he didn't have anyone – no family, no friends to help him.

He hadn't even realized the nurse left the room. The sound of Kathleen's voice startled him from his trance.

"I'm supposed to get you to take these pills," she said quietly, secretly worried about her dad. She'd never seen him so vulnerable. When she'd relieved Maureen for baby-sitting duty, she'd said it had been a rough day. But Kathleen was only staying for a few hours, how bad could it be?

Elliot nodded and spent the next several minutes swallowing two pills. It was one of the most painful experiences of his life. They burned going down and although the ice water felt cool on his throat, he dreaded the next dose of medicine.

"How you doing?" Kathleen asked, uncertain of what to do now that her dad had woken up. "Want me to call mom? You know, to give you ride a home tomorrow?"

Elliot sighed and nodded.

She planted a kiss on his forehead and whispered, "Be right back." She grabbed her cell phone and retreated out the door.

Elliot closed his eyes and fell asleep almost instantly. He was vaguely aware of being woken up in the middle of the night to take more pills, and then again in the morning.

"Up, up, up! You're going home today, detective," the nurse said too cheerfully for Elliot. "Your chariot awaits you outside. Let's get you up, changed, ready to go!"

Elliot, in his groggy state, let the nurse help him out of bed and into the bathroom. Once alone inside, he splashed cold water on his face, looking at his reflection for the first time in days. He hardly recognized himself. He was pale, his eyes dark. He shook his head and began to pull on his favorite pair of sweats that Olivia had brought for him. He emerged from the bathroom and there she sat, waiting for him on his bed.


	13. Chapter 13

"All set?" Olivia asked, grabbing his bag and get well package from the twins. The nurse rolled in a wheelchair and Olivia scoffed at it.

"You know you're wasting your time if you think he's going to get into that," she said.

Elliot was still stunned to see her sitting there on his bed. He gave her a confused look, but she avoided his gaze and turned her attention to the nurse.

"Come on, Detective, have a seat, time to go," the nurse said impatiently.

"Seriously, he's not getting in," Olivia began to argue.

Elliot raised his hands in defeat and climbed into the wheelchair. He was too tired to put up a fight, and what did he care if he got a ride down to the car?

"The Elliot Stabler I used to know would have put up a hell of a good fight back there," Olivia said as they waited for the elevator.

Elliot shrugged his shoulders, still waiting for an explanation as to why Olivia was there, and not his ex-wife. A few minutes later, Elliot was climbing into the passenger side of Olivia's sedan. He leaned his head against the cold glass as they drove out of the parking lot.

"Dickie had a dentist appointment this morning," Olivia said as if that were all the explanation Elliot needed.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the awkward silence in the car. He'd had all this time to think about how to apologize to Olivia and he still didn't know what to say. He'd messed up, but she was still here, right? She came back to take care of him.

She flipped on the radio and he listened to her sing along to Journey, allowing her soft voice to put him gently to sleep.

Olivia pulled in behind Elliot's Trailblazer in the driveway. She glanced at the passenger in the seat next to her. He was sound asleep, his arms folded across his chest, his head resting on the window. He looked so peaceful, she hated to wake him up. She reluctantly got out of the car and gently opened Elliot's door, his head falling into her chest. She couldn't believe she was doing this, after what happened the other day. She had wanted more time before she had to face him again. So far it'd been easy, he'd been passed out the entire time.

"El," she whispered softly, stroking his cheek with her soft mitten. "Come on honey, we're here." It was hard not to use her affectionate names for him, seeing him so fragile.

He let out a low groan, but didn't budge.

"Elliot, seriously, it's freezing out here, let me take you inside," she urged.

He grudgingly lifted his head up, accepting Olivia's extended hand, and stepped out of the car. He was dizzy and couldn't keep his eyes open. Olivia carefully guided him up the sidewalk.

"The stairs are slippery, careful," she said, leading him up the steps and into his house.

Once inside, she locked the door behind her and dropped his overnight bag on the floor.

"Let's get you upstairs into bed," Olivia said to the disoriented Elliot.

Paying no attention to her, he lowered his aching, tired body onto the couch, pulling his favorite blanket to his chin.

"Don't you want to go upstairs? To your bed?" she asked softly, kneeling down next to Elliot's face.

"Cold," he murmured, closing his eyes.

She remembered turning his thermostat down the other day and quickly got up to crank the heat. She went back to Elliot's side and watched him for a few moments, his eyes closed. She'd had so much time the past few days to think about what to say to Elliot the next time she saw him. But somehow, she still had no words. But she had to say something.

"El," she began.

"Hmmm?" he moaned.

Her apology was interrupted by the shrill ringing of her cell phone.

"Ugh, seriously," she said, hurrying to her purse to answer it.

"Benson."

Elliot listened to Olivia's voice. His eyelids were too heavy to open, but he listened intently.

"I don't care," he heard her say angrily. "I'm not just going to leave him here alone."

He smiled to himself, realizing he had to make this work with her. He cared about her so much. His love for her ran deeper than he realized. She was giving up work, the one constant in her life that she loved, for him. He had to tell her.

"Fine, I'll be in after lunch," she said, slamming her phone shut. He could almost see her silently counting backwards from ten, the way she always did when she was frustrated and angry and wanted to take it out on someone. Elliot always admired her self control, something he lacked in many instances. True to form, he heard her moving about his kitchen ten seconds later.

A few moments later, she appeared at his side, squeezing next to him on the couch.

"Here, you're supposed to take these," she said, offering him two pills.

Elliot looked at them skeptically.

"The nurse gave me your prescriptions, I stopped at the pharmacy on the way home. You were sound asleep," she said, placing the pills in Elliot's palm.

Using all the energy he had and ignoring the pain in his throat, he whispered, "Only on two conditions."

"Shh, you're not supposed to talk," she interrupted.

Elliot shook his head, but he had to smile. Olivia was bound and determined to fulfill her nursemaid duties.

"Why don't you just listen?" he asked her, and waited patiently for her to interrupt again. She didn't, so he continued.

"One," he whispered, "You forgive me for the other day."

She opened her mouth to speak, but Elliot stuck his index finger to her lips, shushing her.

"Two," he continued, "You forgive me for this."

He cupped her face in his hands and pulled her close to him, kissing her gently on the lips. She didn't pull away, and he felt his cheeks flush when he saw her close her eyes and a satisfactory moan escaped her lips. Even in his groggy, painful condition, he knew it was the best kiss he'd ever experienced.

She pulled away slightly, staring into his bright blue eyes. She smiled. A smile he had never seen on her beautiful face. He smiled knowing he had put that smile there. He was responsible for Olivia's happiness.

"This," she said, pointing to Elliot and then herself, "Will only work on two conditions."

He smiled and raised his eyebrows at her.

"One," she said, teasing him with another kiss on the lips, "You forgive me for the other day."

He nodded and she continued.

"Two," she continued, "You forgive me for making this phone call at the most inopportune time in our relationship."

He groaned his dissatisfaction, but she got up and dialed the familiar number on her cell phone.

"Yeah, Cap, it's Olivia," she said, winking at Elliot.

His stomach turned to knots, worried about what she would say to him.

"I'm not feeling so great, I think I'm coming down with something… Uh huh… Yeah, I just couldn't keep my hands off him," she said laughing.

Elliot smiled, recalling the conversation he'd overheard the other night between Olivia and Cragen. So the captain knew, too, he thought to himself.

Olivia came back to Elliot's side and smiled at him.

"Captain says if I'm sick, I can't come in, isn't that a shame?" she said giggling.

Elliot had never seen Olivia giggle like that. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. In all the years they had been partners, this was the first time he'd ever wrapped his arms completely around his partner. She felt good in them, like she belonged close to him.

They looked into each other's eyes and a smile crept to Elliot's face.

"Maureen says I like you," he joked.

"Really? She says I like you, too," Olivia smiled.

Elliot pulled her closer to him and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Tired. Must sleep," he said, resting his head on her shoulder.

"Stay?" he asked quietly.

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone for the great reviews. I hope you enjoyed my first story. I'm taking a trip to Hawaii so hopefully I'll come back in a few weeks with a new story idea if anyone's interested! And if you really want, a sequel?


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